Creatures That Kissed In Cold Mirrors
by Katie Havok
Summary: A collection of drabbles and ficlets from various kiss-themed prompts over on Tumblr. Ficlet titles contain pairing(s) and prompt. [Includes Newt/Tina, Newt/Queenie and Newt/Tina/Graves pairings.]


This collection of ficlets was originally begun on September 29th, 2017 and is being posted here for the sake of thoroughness.

Warning for **smut** and **smut-like themes**. Ficlet title contains pairing and prompt.

* * *

 _ **Newtina: A hoarse whisper, "kiss me."**_

Tina finds him standing outside the cluster of weary-looking Aurors, singed shoulders rigid as he stares over the mountain.

She touches his hand until Newt turns to regard her with wide, glassy eyes. They share a look of perfect understanding before she gathers him in her arms, smoothing her hand over his hair as his chest hitches.

"It's okay," she murmurs, tears prickling her eyes. "It's okay. We're here, you're alive, and it's all…okay."

"We were too late," he chokes, and she makes soothing sounds when he presses his face into her neck, his body trembling. " _I_ was too late."

The dam breaks with his words, and he clutches her tightly as he sobs. Newt's tears soak her collar as she rubs his back until his harsh breathing subsides and they stand together, left to their own devices as he calms.

Newt eventually lifts his head to press their foreheads together. Tina cups his reddened cheek and shakily wipes away the evidence of his tears.

"How can I help?" she asks, stroking the hair at his temple. "Tell me what you need."

He sags against her, squeezing his eyes shut and exhaling harshly. "I don't know," he admits. Then, almost too low for her to hear: "No–I'm wrong. I do know." Newt opens his eyes while moving his hand to her throat. His raw gaze galvanizes her, nailing her in place as her skin prickles. " _You_ , Tina. Only you."

Tina swallows down her nerves while fingering the hair at the nape of his neck. "Okay," she says, as much for his sake as for _hers_. "What do you need me to do?"

Newt licks his lips nervously, and Tina's gaze falls to them as her chest begins to flutter. He finds her eyes, his own no longer wide and starey but narrowed and focused and filled to the brim with emotion.

"Kiss me," he says hoarsely, and sweeps his thumb along her bottom lip, "or I fear I shall lose myself."

She cups his jaw on instinct, marveling at the prick of his familiar stubble before rocking onto the balls of her feet. Newt's arm wraps around her waist when she hesitates, breathing him in, his eyes lingering on her mouth until she sways forward to close the gap.

Kissing him is like breathing in sulfur, sharp and pungent, making her chest tighten until she has to pull away to gasp against his lips. Newt is similarly affected if the pounding of his heart against her breast is any indication, and she notices peripherally that everyone else has gone, that they are alone on the windswept creig before hauling him in for more, making him gasp when she tugs on his hair.

"If you have to lose yourself, then lose yourself in _me_ ," she tells him desperately and swallows his shocked gasp only to return it as a sigh when she grapples with his jacket. "I won't let you fade away, I promise."

Newt slides his hands along her side before pushing her blazer off her shoulders with the same sudden urgency, lingering to trace the hem of her blouse. "I'll catch you," he murmurs, repeating the first promise he ever made, and she smiles up at him while reaching for the buttons on his waistcoat.

 _"Always,"_ Tina breathes, only to be cut off by his lips when he surges forward, pulling her against the line of his body until they blur together and are made whole.

* * *

 _ **Newtina: Moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed.**_

He's barely through the apartment door when a black and white blur flings itself at him, knocking the breath from his lungs with an _"oof!"_ when he staggers and drops his case, catching her instinctively.

"I've missed you," Tina breathes against his lips, and Newt barely has time for a sharp inhale before she's kissing him.

They wrestle against each other to peel off his blue jacket and suit coat. Tina playfully nips his thigh through his trousers when she crouches to unbuckle his boots, earning a gasp before he hauls her to her feet. Tina kisses his throat teasingly while tracing the outline of his body through his shirt until Newt steps into her, herding her across the apartment.

"Bedroom," he murmurs breathlessly, skimming his lips over her jaw to her ear before sinking back into her mouth.

Tina kisses him hard enough, _deeply_ enough to make him forget how his limbs work in relation to the rest of his body. He trips as they maneuver through the bedroom door, causing her to burst into merry giggles when he awkwardly saves them from a fall by digging his fingernails into the door-jamb.

"Find that funny, do you?" he chuckles breathlessly, scraping his teeth over her neck before bending to heft her in his arms, earning a surprised yelp.

"Hilarious," Tina gasps, wrapping her legs around his waist when he squeezes her bottom and turns, carrying her into the bedroom. _"Newt–"_

"Yes, alright," he says softly and manages to keep his footing until they tumble into her bed, tugging at each other's clothing to bridge the six-month gap between them.

* * *

 _ **Queenewt: One small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other.**_

Kissing her should feel wrong, and yet…

Queenie looks at Newt through wide eyes as he attempts to process what just happened. For his part, he's stunned, a little intrigued, but above all curious about this new paradigm: here in the middle of a smoky jazz club, with her lipstick coating his mouth, he wonders about the path that had led them to this point, together and alone in heartbreak and trying to smooth their jagged edges.

"Um," he says faintly and holds his breath when Queenie cups his jaw. Her thumb rasps over his stubble as she searches his eyes, the gentle prick of her Legilimensy curiously absent when her gaze falls to his lips.

"It's okay, baby," she whispers off a thought that he cannot even _articulate_ , nevermind express, and traces the outline of his mouth. "It's just you and me here right now, Newt. Just us."

Her hands slide into his hair when he leans back in, meeting her halfway in a kiss heavy with possession. Queenie makes a rough sound, almost a purr when he presses his tongue against hers. Newt's hands settle around her waist as the music picks up around them, the tangy sweat of their fellow dancers filling the air as they kiss, and kiss, and kiss until they part with a gasp to hold each other close, swaying gently to the music.

* * *

 _ **Goldgramander: Height difference kisses where one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes.**_

Tina towers over them like an Amazonian, a warrior-goddess of dark hair and flashing eyes and alabaster skin.

Percival feels small and insignificant beside her. Newt does too if the slightly awed, slightly fearful way he looks at her is any indication. She smiles down at them benevolently before taking their hands, confidently tossing back her shoulders.

"I need both of you to help steady me on these _goddamn_ heels," she grumbles darkly, causing Newt to smother a laugh on his shoulder.

"We'll make it up to you later," Percival promises, slanting a playful leer in her direction while enjoying a leisurely eyeful of her long, shapely legs.

Tina stops abruptly, wobbling on her unfamiliar shoes before hunching down to his height. He has to roll onto his tiptoes to meet her lips, muttering when she pulls away before turning to Newt for more of the same.

Newt looks gobsmacked when she straightens, the slightest trace of her red lipstick staining his mouth. Percival reaches over to tenderly wipe it away with his pocket square before squeezing Tina's hand.

"I owe you both for being here," Tina purrs, "and I promise I'll make it up to you later. Now c'mon, my _adoring_ public is waiting for me."

Her scathing New York-bred sarcasm effectively breaks the tension, causing both men to laugh as they stroll into the Police Foundation banquet, ornamental decoration on the arm of the most beautiful woman in the room.

* * *

 ** _Newtina: Kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing._**

It's been six months since he left.

Six months of letters and late-night moping sessions. Six months of missed opportunities and lunches spent alone. Six months without him, aching for his comfortable presence every _second_ of every day.

Six months apart, and he spends his first night in New York with his head buried in a stack of revisions. _Again._

Tina sighs heavily, making no secret of her irritation, and tosses her book aside.

Newt looks up at her, blinking owlishly. "Sorry–did you say something?"

She tips her head back, staring through the ceiling in disbelief before setting her jaw. "Nope," she says shortly and stands to retrieve her coat. She carelessly shoves her feet into her brogues while donning her jacket in short, sharp jabs, tears prickling her eyes. "It's not like you'd _notice_ , even if I did."

He watches her steadily, plucking his quill from behind his ear. "Well, I'm confident you'd let me know if you needed me, Tina," Newt says after a pause and bends back over his work.

Tina is on the verge of stomping her foot in frustration when she looks, really _looks_ at him. His shoulders are tense with… _something_ , his knuckles white around the Thunderbird feather. He's wearing a smirk, a stark contrast to his watchful eyes, and she replays his words as she hesitates, biting her lip.

"I've missed you," she says suddenly. Newt nods as if this is what he expects, his ragged fringe falling into his eyes. He doesn't move to brush it away. Instead, he cleans the nib of his quill before setting it aside.

"And I, you," he murmurs, and lays his palms flat on the table, still avoiding eye-contact. "I just wasn't sure if the feeling was…reciprocated."

She takes another look at him until the pieces fall into place, her jaw falling open in disbelief that it could be so _simple_. Kicking off her shoes, she sheds her coat while striding across the room, looking down at him for a tense moment before crouching at his side.

Newt meets her eyes hesitantly, his lips pressed into a thin line. Tina takes the opportunity to drink in his face, re-memorizing its planes and angles, the specific color and texture of his freckles, before framing it with her hands. His lips part on a sigh when she leans into him, seeking permission until he nods, throat working.

"I missed you _so_ much," she tells him and feels his answering shiver when their lips touch before sealing them together.

She kisses him with the same careful diligence to puts into everything else, tentatively touching her tongue to his when he parts his lips before slowly pulling back. He follows her to dust her cheek and jaw with kisses, the bronze crescent of his eyelashes capturing the light as he slides his fingers into her hair.

"I believe I missed you more," Newt whispers, and Tina can't help the grin splitting her face.

"I don't think that's possible," she says, laying a deliberate hand on his thigh to watch his cheeks flush. His throat clicks when he swallows, his eyes dropping to where she touches him before returning to her face. There's a question in his gaze, carefully couched in propriety, and she tempers her grin into a soft smile while tipping their foreheads together.

"Put the revisions away," she murmurs before kissing the tip of his nose, "and I'll show you _how_ I kept myself occupied when you were gone."

It's a risk, putting herself out there this way, but she is rewarded when his eyes darken and grow heavy, the tip of his tongue flicking out to touch his upper lip.

"Revisions? What revisions?" He asks hoarsely, and Tina smirks in triumphant when he shoves aside the stack of parchment to haul her into his lap, his mouth seeking hers.

* * *

 _ **Newtina: Kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing.**_

He arrives home earlier than anticipated and steps through the door to set down his case and shed his jackets, only to come up short at the sight of his wife.

Tina's still in her pajamas, her hair frizzed angrily around her head. She has a smear of flour on her cheek and she's frowning at the amorphous blob spread over the counter, her hands curled into unhappy fists.

Newt steps over to her, cautiously surveying the wreckage of the kitchen. "Tina?"

Her shoulders stiffen when she turns away from him. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't supposed to be home for hours!"

"I thought the same," he admits, eyeing the sad grey lump on the cutting board. Tina grumbles darkly while brandishing a knife, ruthlessly slicing an apple as he debates the merit of touching her. "Is everything…all right here?"

Tina hacks indiscriminately. "Yeah, sure. Why wouldn't it be?" There's a note of schmaltz in her voice, causing him to frown. "I'm just hopeless in the kitchen, with my _fakakta_ cooking, while you, Queenie and Jacob make it look so easy, but why would that bother me?"

She tosses a slice of apple into an awaiting bowl too hard, causing it to skim out and go sliding across the kitchen floor. _"Verdammt!"_ she growls, slapping down her knife to stomp over to it, hissing all the way. Tina straightens to show a toothy, brittle smile, her eyes too bright. "You should probably just…go. Let me ruin the rest of this strudel on my own since I'm already more than halfway there."

Newt closes his eyes when sudden understanding comes to him, cursing himself for a fool. "I forgot all about that," he admits, opening his eyes to watch his wife reach for the raisins, her movements short and angry. "Tina, I'm sorry."

Tina doesn't acknowledge him, and he waits until she sets down the knife, aware of how adept she is at improvisational weaponry before moving to stand behind her. Her hands fall still when he presses his forehead to the nape of her neck before pushing her hair aside to kiss it, his lips lingering.

She sighs deeply when he does it again, his lips seeking and finding a cherished mole to lave it with attention before turning, allowing him to take her into his arms. "It's…fine. I'm being ridiculous."

"You're not," he argues gently, lips pressed against her jaw. "It's my fault for forgetting a date that I know means a lot to you, though why you persist in torturing us _both_ with your cooking, I'll never understand."

There's a shocked beat when he thinks his weak attempt at humor may be ignored or, worse, misinterpreted. Then Tina huffs out a giggle, her body loosening in his arms. "Yeah, well…you know what they say about suffering."

Newt nuzzles her cheek before pressing his nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent and dappling her skin with kisses. "No, I don't, actually. Care to enlighten me?" Tina hums languidly instead of answering, and he grins while pushing aside the collar of her pajamas, kissing a slow path over her shoulder and collarbone to her sternum.

Tina's fingers tangle into his hair when he licks a slow path to her mouth, lingering against her lips to inhale her eager breath before kissing her deeply. She murmurs another low oath when he pulls away to skim his teeth over her jaw, prompting him to grin into her hair.

"You have _such_ a filthy mouth," he muses and is rewarded with a low moan as she arches her back to sweep the counter clear before bracing against it. He supports her hips as she boosts herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him _in_ before nipping his jaw.

"Be quiet," Tina admonishes, pressing her smirking mouth against his neck as she loosens his collar. "I think I have something _else_ I'd like to make with you, and it's as American as apple pie."

"I like apple pie," Newt says while eagerly plucking at the buttons of her pajamas, parting the flannel to take her nipple between his teeth. "In fact, I like your apple pie much, _much_ better than your strudel."

"We're not talking about food anymore, are we?" Tina gasps when he twangs her nipple to hardness before transferring to the other side, sucking as his hands slide over her stomach to the juncture of her thighs. He groans when he finds her _wet_ , her hips rolling as he strokes her confidently.

Newt presses his lips to the shell of her ear when she tugs at the placket of his trousers. "Strudel leads to apple pie," he whispers hotly, delighting when she shivers. "And _your_ apple pie is a perfected form of…what do you call it? _Shtupping?_ "

" _Shtupping_ , yes," Tina gasps, stroking him to hardness through the thin cotton of his underwear before shoving his trousers past his hips. He groans when she circles his tip with her thumb, his fingers trembling as he sucks them into his mouth, licking them clean.

 _"Oy Gevalt,"_ she breathes, dark eyes riveted to his mouth, and rocks her hips forward. She uses her grip on his cock to reel him in, guiding him to where she wants him most until he presses in, her teeth scraping his throat as they come together.

Their lips brush teasingly as they rock, slowly at first but gaining urgency as her fingernails carve ribbons into his skin. The buttons on his shirt go flying when she opens it roughly, latching her mouth to his chest as she whimpers and clenches around him.

Newt presses their cheeks together as the pressure builds, moaning unselfconsciously when she squeezes him tight before shuddering, gasping his name. Her climax triggers his own, and he hides his face in her neck as he thrusts through his release, until she slumps in his arms and he braces them both against the counter.

"Well," Tina says after a while, lifting her head to push his hair out of his eyes, "I guess I'm not useless in the kitchen after all."

He kisses her temple. "Indeed not," he agrees and squeezes her thigh. "In fact, I may be persuaded to allow you to cook more often if it means we get to do _this_ again."

"We'll see," Tina says, but she looks pleased, her cheeks a lovely shade of pink.

Newt tenderly tucks a loose sheaf of hair behind her ear before stepping back, separating them with a wince. He helps her down from the counter to set their clothing to rights before turning their wands on the kitchen, cleaning up the remnants of the abandoned strudel in easy companionship.


End file.
